At the countryside

The scent of travelling delights me
To lands I have been or haven’t seen
But it is more desiring to go somewhere,
Quiet, natural and homely-
Nothing compares to this ideology

The smell of gasoline and burnt tires
Is now my friendly companion
For the road has been a customer
And places my joyful partner
The cities pass by, the jungles too
The trees swoop by, waving a hearty bye
Same with the clouds, wearing sad faces
And the people who stand by the roadside
The city is probably cruel to all
But the journey, my journey continues
Through palm forests and swamplands
And the farmlands with scarecrows
I arrive at the countryside
To regain some pure air,
Safe from the noises of the township
Safer from the crowd that I loath
And the smoke from cars and cigars

I am free atleast…
Free from the city’s hustle